


Make It Work

by Kit_Kat21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Project Runway Fusion, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 08:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16260215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: Sansa's dream has always been to compete onProject Runway, but now that she's here, her brain is fried and she misses her boyfriend. But her boyfriend is not going to let her throw in the towel.





	Make It Work

…

 

When she first got on the show, she warned him. Every phone call is in front of the cameras – whether they make it on the show or not – and they must be on speaker so the viewers can hear both ends of the conversation. She had been nervous telling him that because she knows how shy and private he can be, but she also couldn’t imagine going weeks without talking to him. And his thoughts had been the same because he had said that whatever he had to do to talk to her, that’s what he would do.

 

Once they’ve gotten the challenge and have had time to sketch and have gone to Mood for fabrics, Sansa is staring down at her sketch and hating the sight of it. She can’t think of anything else to do though. She’s exhausted. Her brain is fried and she just wants to go home.

 

“Are you okay?” Mitchell – who sits next to her in the work room – asks and Sansa nods quickly, making sure she doesn’t look at him so he can’t see the tears glistening in her eyes.

 

She turns on her stool and leaves the room as quickly as she can, keeping her head down so her hair – down that day – covers her face. She knows the other designers will be talking about her now, but she just doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anything in this competition right now.

 

She takes one of the phones that contestants can use and in the break room, sitting on the window ledge and hugging her knees to her chest, she calls her boyfriend. She calls _home_.

 

“’ello?” Jon’s tired voice answers through the speaker.

 

“I keep forgetting the time difference,” Sansa says and really feels like crying now. “I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

 

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he replies. She can hear him moving in bed – _their_ bed – and she can imagine him lying on his back now, his black curls an adorable, tousled mess on his head and her chest aches with longing to be there with him. “You’re crying,” he then says. “Sansa, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Sansa immediately says with a shake of her head, but the tremble in her voice is becoming worse and she can’t hide it. The first tears start to slide down her cheeks. “I’m just so tired and I miss you so much,” she says in a soft, strained voice.

 

The hand not holding the phone, she bends her elbow on her knee and puts the hand on her head, attempting to hide herself from the camera, but knowing that she’s not able to. The camera is _always_ around. She forgets about it, most of the time, but in times like this, when she’s talking to Jon, she just wants to be left the hell alone.  

 

“I miss you, too, but I don’t want you coming home,” Jon tells her.

 

“What?” Sansa sniffles.

 

“Well, besides the fact that Lady and Ghost are taking up your entire side of the bed now and they have gotten themselves quite comfortable with these new sleeping arrangements? I don’t want you coming home yet because you’re not ready to come home yet.”

 

Sansa closes her eyes and feels tears slowly leaking down her cheeks. “I can’t think anymore, Jon. I’m completely fried.”

 

“Am I allowed to ask what your challenge is today?” Jon asks, knowing some of the rules, but not all of the rules.

 

“It’s an evening wear challenge,” Sansa tells him, keeping it vague, not sure herself if it’s against the rules or if telling him would be considered cheating; the producers thinking she’s calling him now for help of some sort.

 

If only they knew that Jon Snow doesn’t even know how to thread a needle and is fairly convinced that black is the only color on the color wheel. Any time she makes him anything, she knows he will wear anything she makes, but she also knows that he prefers everything to be black – so that’s what she gives him. Black pants. Black sweaters. A knitted black scarf.

 

“You do evening wear in your sleep, Sansa Stark,” Jon reminds her. “What’s the problem?”

 

“I just can’t think of anything and what I do sketch, I just hate it and it’s not me.”

 

“Ah,” Jon says and then he’s quiet for a moment. “Well, why can’t you make it you? It’s an evening wear challenge and you love to make dresses for yourself and your mom and when you make her a dress, you know that’s the only time Arya will wear one.”

 

Sansa smiles a little at that.

 

“So, make a dress for you or your mom or Arya.”

 

“You make it sound so easy,” Sansa says with a little smiling, wiping at one of her cheeks.

 

“I can’t even imagine how tired you probably are right now, but Sansa, you just have to shut up, go back in there and do it.”

 

Sansa lets out a laugh now, more with surprise at his words than anything. “Just like that?”

 

“Yes, just like that. Go in there, make an evening wear dress, win the challenge and the next and the next one after that and you’ll be back in bed next to me before you knows it.”

 

Sansa exhales a soft sigh and closes her eyes again. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too. You alright now?” He wonders.

 

Sansa pauses to really think of her answer. “I think so.”

 

“I miss you, Sansa, and can’t wait until you’re home again, but you’ve been working for this for too long to just throw in the towel now and let some _southern_ designer win.”

 

Sansa laughs again and she can hear Jon smiling from over the phone. “You’re right,” she agrees. “I just needed to hear it.”

 

“I’m always here to say it when you need me to. Can I go back to sleep now?”

 

“Yes, Jon,” Sansa rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing again.

 

“I love you,” Jon smiles.

 

“I love you, too, and thank you. I’ll be home soon, but not _too_ soon.”

 

“That’s my girl,” Jon yawns and Sansa smiles, her tears forgotten. “Oh, and Sansa? Your evening wear dress? Make it black.”

 

…

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you!! (sorry for the complete randomness. It was either competing on _Project Runway_ or _Top Model_.)


End file.
